Harry's Sister
by Anne O'Nimauss
Summary: The history of Melantha Cardigan Potter, Obliviated member of Harry's family.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Greetings to you all. My name is Melantha Cardigan Potter.You may already have heard of my younger brother, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. I was born three years before he was, and had three more years of running for my life.

My life was relatively quiet compared to his, though, until my fourth birthday. That's when the attack happened at Godric's Hollow, and our parents died.Time has a way of... smoothing over the rough edges when things are too painful to remember, and that's what happened to me.I spent the years from when I was four to when I was seventeen unknowing of my past, history, or destiny.

Although I am nineteen years old, I have only just completed my fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Listen closely to my history and I will tell you why…


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: History**

There are many schools of magic worldwide, three of them in the United States of America alone. The first and oldest one is The Salem Witches' Institute, located (somewhere) in New England and founded soon after the Pilgrims arrived, nearly four hundred years ago. The second is the Kansas Prairie Songsmith Acadame, located (surprise!) in Nebraska and founded during the Expansion westward, around one hundred and seventy-five years ago. And the youngest is the West Coast Occult College, located (where else?) in San Francisco and founded only about fifty years ago.

Before I arrived at Hogwarts, I was a student at the Kansas Prairie Songsmith Acadame. I was enrolled there as Melantha Cardigan, and that was the only home I knew for almost fourteen years. Students at Songsmith traditionally receive, starting at age ten, five years of music, followed by six years of magic, and then one year of tests to see what they have the greatest aptitude in for their life's work. We must spend the years from ten to fourteen in music classes before we are allowed to even crack open a spellbook. When we do finally begin to learn magic, we must write all our spells as verses to a song, one we've written ourselves. The Magisters, as we call our Professors, have long memories, so we can never reuse a stanza.

Until I returned to England and came to Hogwarts, where I finally met my brother again after fourteen years (although he didn't know we were related when we first saw each other and not for a long while after that), my earliest memories are of my birthday party at age four. I distinctly remember a tall woman with an English accent, her mouth drawn up like a prune, in forest green and black robes and a small pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose, but I never heard her name. She was the one who had escorted me to Songsmith and enrolled me, apparently. She told them I was an orphan, with no family, and would they please take me in and keep me safe. At the time, no one knew who (or what) they were to protect me from, but Magistra Archon, Songsmith's Principal, agreed, and my life began.

You may well ask why they threw a party just for me… it wasn't. My birthday just happens to fall on Halloween, and that's what they were celebrating. My birthday was just a happy bonus for the other kids. Before she left, the English woman in green and black pulled me aside from the festivities and handed me a black leather pack. I looked inside, but it appeared empty. She seemed about to laugh, and then told me that it was a very special magic bag, which would hold anything. She demonstrated by reaching in and drawing out a broomstick. She told me the pack was my father's and the broom was my mother's. I wanted to ask more questions, but she said she had to leave, handing back the pack and broom and disappearing on the spot with a large crack. I put the broom back in and went back to the party, forgetting about the broom until years later, although the pack was very handy for my schoolbooks.

Magistra Archon enrolled me in a Muggle school, Crossroads Elementary as I recall, for the next six years, with the promise that I would speak nothing of magic. It was hard, but I managed, and I even made a couple of friends, Catlyn and Tryna Barns. We were inseparable, going everywhere and doing everything together. Cat and Try were almost identical twins, with Cat being an inch taller and Try having blue eyes instead of gray. They sort of adopted me as their sister, and their parents had no objection. Our years at Crossroads we got into all sorts of mischief, but it was harmless fun.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Cats**

On my fifth birthday, I returned to my room at Songsmith and found a small spotted kitten on my bed. I ran to Magistra Archon's office, and she said it was a winged jaguar cub, very rare. I looked at the kitten, but it didn't appear to have wings, and said so. She laughed and said the wings would only appear in times when the owner is in grave peril, otherwise magic would be announced unnecessarily to the Muggle world. Four years later, Jakkin (as I had named him, after a dragon trainer in a favorite book) had grown until he could no longer fit into my room or the hallways of Songsmith.

I asked Magistra Archon about it, and she told me that if I asked him, he would change to any size I wanted him to be. I queried her as to why she hadn't told me this when he arrived, and she said that she hadn't known until a couple months previous, while doing research. She said that her full research had brought up some very interesting things, such as Jakkin was a sport (genetic accident), so he would be huge, even bigger than the rest of his family, which in and of itself was a tribe of giant jaguars from the Painted Cliffs of Arizona. Because he was a sport, he had a few magical abilities, such as sprouting wings and changing size. "He may develop more," she warned me. "Sport giant jaguars only happen once every couple thousand generations, and the last one was destroyed because the nearest humans (Muggles, they were) though it was a demon. We of the magic world know very little about them, as magical zoology is very imprecise and there are many gaps in the records." I thanked her for the information on my pet, and then went and asked him to please shrink, as the school wasn't built for jaguars fifteen feet tall at the shoulder. He jumped into the air, did a triple somersault, and landed on his paws the size of a housecat. I clapped and picked him up, thanking him.

I had agreed to not speak of magic to anyone but Magistra Archon, so imagine my surprise when I arrived at Songsmith for my first day of official classes and there were Cat and Try! Magistra Archon must have spoken with Mr. and Mrs. Barns when I first met the twins, and warned them that magical influences might bring back memories better left alone. (Memories of what, I didn't know then.) Anyway, we were together again at Songsmith, and that's all that mattered to us Musketeers. The three of us got into more hijinks our first year than the legendary Pingui brother, Parker and Peter, did their entire time at Songsmith. Park and Pete were attending their last year when we started, so we didn't see them much. They did have to tutor some of the beginning music and magic classes, so we saw them then, but the other times Cat, Try, and I just stayed out of their way. (Also, what twenty-one-year-old man wants to spend any time longer than necessary with three ten-year-old girls?) They were Keeper and Seeker for one of the school Quidditch teams.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Sorting**

I think I'd better explain the way the school was run. We had a Sorting Hat, too, but ours was one of those Muggle magician's top hats, bespelled to sing (of course) the name of the student and what college they were Sorted into. The colleges were named after famous Muggle schools, just like some of the Muggle high schools are set up. There were four, and you were randomly placed: you could be in Radcliffe, famous for Helen Keller, with its elephant seal mascot; you could be in Fordham, with its mallard duck; you could be in Prescott Pointe, with its grizzly bear; or you could be put into Davis, with its hammerhead shark.

We'd be Sorted on the first day of our music years, to get us used to being in colleges for our magic years, which was when we'd be able to play Quidditch. (Every child wished to be on the College Team.) A Magister or Magistra would line us up, not in any particular order, then would hand the first one in line the Hat. "_Travis Ramsey, you are in Fordham_" it would sing, or "_Elisabeth Garnet for Davis_" and so on. Cat and Try were both sung into Radcliffe. When it came to me, however, the Hat was silent for many minutes. I was so afraid that the Hat would reject me, and I'd have to leave the Acadame and the only home I'd ever known (well, remembered, anyway). I caught the eye of Magister Connelly, and he nodded and went for Magistra Archon.

I sat there in full view of the entire school, with half the class still to be Sorted, blushing to the roots of my flame-colored hair (it's the color of all flames, from the black, blue, and green of cold through the purple and white of mid-range all the way to the red, orange, and yellow of most intense heat). Magistra Archon swooped up, plucked the Hat from my head, and placed it on her own, then held a silent conversation with it. Her face went white, and then she shakily set the Hat back on my head. I attempted to ask her what was wrong, but the Hat decided to Sort me then. "_Melantha Cardigan Potter, you are to be in Radcliffe, but only until your third year of magic. After that, I cannot say. Only the Hogwarts Sorting Hat may_." It sang so softly, Magister Connelly standing four steps away could barely hear it, and Magistra Archon's eyes went wide.

The school started whispering as I handed the Hat back to Magister Connelly and sat at the Radcliffe table. I did not hear the rest of the Sorting, for my mind was still on what the Hat had called me. Jakkin jumped into my lap and attempted to comfort me, but there was no comfort to be had. Why had the Hat called me Melantha Cardigan Potter? So far as I knew, my name was and always had been simply Melantha Cardigan. I had of course heard of the famous boy Harry Potter (who hadn't?), who had survived a killing curse from the most powerful evil wizard of the age, and reduced that wizard to a shadow. But what had he to do with me? To my understanding, to the whole world's understanding, he was an only child. So how was I called by his last name?

The next morning, Magistra Archon called me into her office. She said that she had sent a message by carrier pigeon to Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, explaining the situation, and he would be returning one soon. It was all quite confusing, as nothing like this had ever happened in the Acadame's one hundred-seventy-five-year history, but Magistra Archon had faith that Professor Dumbledore would straighten everything out. Meanwhile, I would attend music and then magic years normally, with Catlyn and Tryna Barns at my side. She made me promise I would be their shadow, and they my shepherds, during my years at Songsmith. I nodded faithfully, not quite understanding the reason for the harsh security measures, but knowing that Magistra Archon would not ask silly things of me.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Classes**

My music training years at Songsmith passed without incident, except for the usual pranks we Musketeers pulled. I remember the time Cat and I stood watch while Try tripped the water main, turning on the sprinklers and watering the lawns orange. Then there was the time Try and I ran Megan Rundleson's nylons up the flagpole during the yearly College Bowl, when Radcliffe was playing Fordham. Or even the time the twins built a giant penguin out of sugar cubes, royal icing, and Park Pingui's Quidditch robes, though I was the one blamed for that. Those were fun times, with Jakkin draped on my shoulders and the Barns twins at my side. As the years progressed, I kept asking Magistra Archon about the pigeon she had sent to that Professor Dumbledore, but she always told me there was still no reply.

When I entered my first year of magic schooling, she told me that Professor Dumbledore had finally deigned to respond, but it was not the missive she had been hoping for. Instead of explaining everything to her satisfaction, he simply said that the two schools would conduct as student exchange when the time was right for me to enter Hogwarts. He would choose one student he thought would best benefit from the musical training of Songsmith, and that student would be exchanged for me at the appropriate opportunity.

I could tell Magistra Archon was less than pleased and quite upset, but I smiled at her and said that Professor Dumbledore would not send an unworthy student to replace me. She told me that I could never be replaced; only marginally succeeded. I left her office only slightly less confused than when I had entered.

The week before my fifteenth birthday, we had our first flying lessons, where Radcliffe and Davis were to learn together on the school brooms. Unfortunately, Angela Nickleby of Davis commanded her broom so forcefully that it flew off the ground and smashed into the wall of the school, shattering into tiny splinters. Magistra Whitehawk was a little surprised by the reaction of Angela's broom, and was just about to send to the broomshed for another, when I remembered the broom the lady in green and black robes had shown me.

Since we all had our schoolbags with us, I asked the Magistra to wait a moment while I ran to mine. I put my hand in and pulled out the broom, giving Angela the school broom I had been about to command. Magistra Whitehawk blinked at me, but must have been given instructions by Magistra Archon, for she only asked to examine the broom to see if it was still flightworthy. She passed it, and we continued with the flying lesson. Not until I arrived at Hogwarts would I discover that my broom was anything but ordinary.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Nightmares Abroad**

My seventeenth year, my third year of magic studies at Songsmith, when the Daily Prophet (yes, we got that in America, too) announced the Triwizard Cup and showed the pictures of the four contestants, I started having nightmares.I would dream of myself as a child walking down the street holding hands with a young woman, when suddenly there was a bang, a crash, and a bright purple light. I would wake up screaming at least three times each night, each scream louder than the one previous, waking the school with my cries.I spent months waking the entire student body with my shrieks.Even when they placed Jakkin and me in a magically sound-proof room, I still awoke trembling and sobbing, and broughtmost of the school with me.None of the Magisters or Magistras could do anything for me, although Magister Westing put forth the theory that someone had enacted a powerful Memory Charm on me, which the Daily Prophet pictures were starting to erode.

Magistra Archon pelted Professor Dumbledore with messenger pigeons for months on end, but she received no reply. She was just about to go see him herself, in late July, when she finally received an owl from him. The note simply said that he and the staff of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in London would be able to help me, and that I should come at once. No explanation of why he waited so long to answer, no forthcoming justification for why he ignored the problem and simply sent the solution, no reason for sending the pigeons back empty-beaked, just an urgent epistle that I should come to England immediately.

Cat and Try helped me pack, although admittedly everything could have been stuffed into my schoolbag with its endless insides. We cried together and promised to write every week. Magistra Whitehawk was to be my chaperone to England, as she had some personal business to conduct there in any case. We wore Muggle clothing because we had to take Muggle transit. I did not ask her what she had to do in England, so we had a very silent trip. Upon arrival in London, she took us to a tiny corner bar, with a very dirty sign. The Leaky Cauldron, as it was called, and we wove our way through the noisy common room. The bartender caught Magistra Archon's eye, but she shook her head and forged our way out the back door.

Once out back, she drew her wand and tapped a complicated sequence on the bricks. The bricks melted away into a tall archway, and we stepped through. Once inside, she said "_Welcome to Diagon Alley_" in a rather hushed voice. I tried to look everywhere at once; there were so many interesting things to see. She cut a straight course to the white, lopsided building which bore the legend "Gringotts" over the front doors. Once inside, she stepped to a counter and whispered to the little creature behind it, which called to another creature and told us to follow it. We went on a rollercoaster ride through the bowels of the building.

The cart stopped, and the creature called "Vault Six Hundred and Twenty-Two" as we stepped out. Magistra Whitehawk handed the creature a key, and it opened the door. I gazed, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at the mountain of treasure behind the door, as Magistra said that it was all in my name. The little creature (Magistra later told me he was called a goblin) handed me a small bag to gather some money into, and we went back up to the street.

Magistra took me to the Wand Shop, clucking over the fact that I didn't have one already. Mr. Ollivanders almost fainted when he saw me, commenting "I thought I'd seen the last one of you when your brother came in four, almost five years ago" in a creaky, quiet voice. I didn't have a chance to ask him what he meant, for he was almost immediately handing me wands to try out. Holly and unicorn tailhair, beech and dragon heartstring, mahogany and phoenix wingfeather, ash and unicorn manehair, willow and phoenix tailfeather, the list of endless combinations went on for what seemed like hours. Finally the right one flew into my hand with what almost sounded like a sigh of relief mingled with frustration, a slender beauty at ten inches long made of rosewood with a core of dragon heartstring. I paid him eight Galleons for it and we left.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: The Longbottoms**

We went back to the Leaky Cauldron to get a bite to eat, directions to St. Mungo's, and send an owl to Professor Dumbledore saying that we were in London and en route to the Hospital. After our meal, Magistra Whitehawk and I took the bus and then walked to St. Mungo's. She whispered "Two to meet the Healers and visit the Longbottoms" to the dummy in the window. The dummy winked at us, and then Magistra pulled me through the window into a large waiting area. Looking up at the floor guide, I didn't know where we were supposed to be heading, but Magistra bulled past the Welcome Witch and went up to the fourth floor. "Now I want you to be polite," she hissed at me on the way up, "These are my cousins we're visiting, and they are… rather childlike, so be on your best behavior." I nodded, afraid to speak.

We arrived at the Janus Thickey Ward, and the Healer at the door let us in. Magistra strode down to the end, where there were curtains drawn, and rounded the corner on an imposing woman wearing a stuffed vulture on her hat, a nervous, round-faced boy who looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else, and a man and woman in nightclothes. The woman with the vulture looked up in amazement as we approached, "Why, Everly, what a pleasant surprise! Are you in England long?" I shot a startled look at Magistra, and then settled my shy gaze on the floor. "I'll be here," Magistra Whitehawk said, "for as long as it takes for Albus and the Healers to figure out what's wrong with this girl here." I looked up at the woman, smiled slightly, and then returned my eyes to the floor, blushing.

W still had not been introduces, although clearly Magistra knew the old woman and possibly the boy as well. "She looks well enough," the woman proclaimed, "although she could do with a few manners. I do hope that's not your doing, Everly. Stand up straight, girl, and introduce yourself. I am Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, matriarch of the Longbottom clan, and these are my son Frank, his wife Alice, and their son Neville." Neville finally looked at me for the first time, blushed to his roots, and shook my hand silently.

"I am Melantha Cardigan, I think, ma'am," I said in a heavy Texan twang. "You think?" she rounded on me, "Either you are or you aren't!" Magistra lightly put a restraining hand on her arm, "Please, Aunt Augusta, don't be too hard on her. That's part of the reason we're here… it seems that the Sorting Hat at the Kansas Prairie Songsmith Acadame called her Melantha Cardigan Potter," Neville's head shot up and his eyes went wide, staring at me, "and recently, since the first accounts of the Triwizard Cup have been in the papers, she's been having nightmares. Sean Westing, Magister of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Songsmith, thought that it might be a Memory Charm dispersing. But that's how we came to be in London."

Neville, his eyes still on my face, blurted out, "Sh-She looks like Harry, Gran!" then blushed again and turned away to answer his mother's tugging on his shirtsleeve. Mrs. Longbottom studied my face a long moment, then declared, "Well, I don't know if that's true, being as how I have never met your friend Harry Potter, but she is a very pretty young woman, Neville, and I hope you will be her friend if she is to show up at Hogwarts next year."

(Here I should mention that I have been told many times since finding out who I really am that I have my mother's face, as my brother has our father's face, and we both get extraordinarily tired of hearing it. But until I regained all of my memories, it seemed that there was a glamour upon me, to make people think that I was just a girl with hair the color of all flames green, blue, black, purple, white, etc. and had eyes that changed colors like a chameleon. This was most fortunate for the both of us, as you will later see.)

Now both of us blushed, and Magistra distracted her with small-talk of how the rest of the Longbottom clan was doing. I dove into my schoolbag and brought out a novel, it didn't matter which book I chose, and started reading, to allow Neville time to regain his composure and look after his parents. Magistra and Mrs. Longbottom spent several hours pleasantly chatting about old times and old friends, while Neville entertained his parents and I hid in my book.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Cures and Exchanges**

I was deep in my book, which happened to be full of Greek myths, when a tall man with the longest beard I had ever seen came in and spoke, making us all jump, "I thought I'd find you here, Everly," then looked at me and said, "Ah, yes, young Miss Potter, I know you well, great-granddaughter." I believe I fainted then, and awoke hours later lying on a bed near to the Longbottoms. Neville and his grandmother had left soon after I swooned, so the only people waiting for me to wake up were Magistra Whitehawk and the tall man, who I learned was Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts (and James Potter's grandfather, although at the time this was not known). (I did not learn of this until very recently, speaking with his brother Aberforth.)

Professor Dumbledore smiled at me as I sat up, "Well, young lady, you gave us all quite a fright there. I do hope you are feeling better, because the Healers wish to examine you." I shook my head a few moments, blinking to completely wake up, then replied, "I believe so, sir, but what do you think they will find? To tell the truth, I'm rather scared of what's in my head." Magistra Whitehawk patted my shoulder, "There, there, it'll be alright, dear. They will just see if there really is a Memory Charm on you, and if so, try to break it without harming you." Professor Dumbledore nodded in agreement, so we went out to see the Healers.

As we were walking downstairs, a thought struck me, "Professor, if that boy Neville really is friends with the boy you say is my brother, don't you think he might tell him before we have a chance to meet? I mean, if I heard that I had a sister that I'd never met from a person I'd only known a few years, I might be a little suspicious, never mind the shock of hearing it from someone other than the girl herself!" He smiled knowingly at me, "My dear young girl, I knew that that would concern you, so I asked Neville and his grandmother to say nothing until the Healers have worked their magic on you. It would not do for you to show up saying that you are the older sister of the famed Harry Potter without having the memories of being his sister. Also, it would so shock the wizarding world that you just might become the next target of Lord Voldemort and his followers. So for now, we will keep you safe as the unassuming exchange student Melantha Cardigan, no matter what the Healers find in your mind." I sighed, much relieved.

Meeting the Healers was the queerest experience I have ever had in my life. Professor Dumbledore explained the situation to them, and they made me sit on a hard wooden chair, very uncomfortable, painted the most hideous shade of green I've ever seen. Then they circled me, sometimes prodding me in various places with the tips of their wands. Occasionally one of them would tap my head, and then I would scream as my nightmare appeared. Eventually the Head Healer sighed and said, "Well my dear, you do have a Memory Charm on you, but it is the most powerful we have ever seen. We are frankly shocked that you are even sane, given how powerful it was at casting. Your Magister Westing was correct, the Charm has eroded somewhat, especially in the past few months, but we can do nothing except perhaps assist in the eroding. If we attempted to remove it fully, you would end up worse than the poor Longbottoms upstairs. But hopefully we can nudge it into breaking up on its own, and then you will set up weekly visits with Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts until it is completely gone. As next week school starts again, you will visit her when you arrive.

I nodded, wide-eyed, and they all put their wandtips on my head and muttered something I didn't catch. A blast of purple light surrounded us all and the Healers exploded away from me. I shrieked and must have blacked out again, for when my eyes opened I was on the floor, with the Healers picking themselves up around me. "Well, I believe that worked," the Head Healer said with a wan smile on her face, "but you will forgive us if we do not ask you to return until the problem is completely gone." I gave her a rather weak smile in return and went to speak with Professor Dumbledore and Magistra Whitehawk.

"Professor," I began tentatively, and he nodded at me to go on, "in your note to Magistra Archon, you mentioned that there would be an exchange of students… I was just curious who would be returning with Magistra Whitehawk." He actually laughed at me and motioned for us to accompany him out the door. We did, but I hesitated a moment at the Welcome Witch's desk to leave a donation. "Young lady, your perspicacity amazes me, just as your brother's always does. I am sending with your revered Magistra Whitehawk _two_ very special students: Benjamin Lightfoot of Ravenclaw, and Moaning Myrtle Morgan of Hufflepuff. I am sending an owl ahead to inform Magistra Archon of my decision, and to warn her that anyone rude to either Benjamin or Myrtle will answer to me." He waved off our questioning looked, "My dear Everly, I am sending Benjamin because he would best serve the world as a **_musician_** instead if a **_magician_**. And Myrtle, well…" he sighed and continued, "Myrtle is a ghost, who needs to learn a few things, one of which is to moan _on_-key. Please, my friend," he said reassuringly as Magistra Whitehawk squeaked in dismay, "make sure that these students are treated with the utmost respect and dignity they require and deserve."

Magistra Whitehawk assured him that they would be treated as he commanded, and he invited her to visit Hogwarts, as Songsmith would not start classes until later in September. She accepted, and outside St. Mungo's we parted way. Professor Dumbledore disappeared into the crowd, we assumed to return to Hogwarts, and we went back to the Leaky Cauldron to spend a very pleasant week in Diagon Alley. She did take me to Madame Malkin's a robe shop, since Songsmith is a bit more lax about uniforms than schools in Europe are. Madame Malkin frowned as I walked in, no doubt wondering why a girl of my age needed robes for the first time, but a parchment handed to her by Magistra Whitehawk cleared the worries from her face, and she outfitted me admirably.

 insight or understanding


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Second Sorting and New Friends**

When the day finally arrived, Magistra Whitehawk and I took the bus to Kings' Cross Station, and thence to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The train ride up was memorable, mostly because I'd never been anywhere on a train; I'd never been anywhere except Nebraska, in my current memory. I've always looked younger than my real age, so no one questioned that I was too old. I did get a few strange looks from people, but people are always curious about new students. Magistra and I sat in a car full of apparently third and fourth years from different Houses, but I don't remember being that loud when I was thirteen. I mostly read the entire trip, when I wasn't looking out the window amazed. I did rise out of my stupor when the trolley came, and bought a few items, but then I delved right back into my book.

Magistra tapped my elbow when the train stopped at the station and the other students were getting off; I hadn't felt the movement cease, but I quickly swept up my belongings and followed them. I whispered to her, "I suppose I should follow the first years, since it's my first time to the castle." She nodded, and followed the other students to the horseless carriages. I was now truly alone without anyone I knew for the first time in my life, and I was scared stiff. I was swept along in the wave of first years, looking quite out of place. I don't remember the trip across the lake, but I must have taken it, for the next thing I knew we were assembled on some stairs, and the woman from my fourth birthday party was speaking to us.

She looked exactly the same as she had almost fourteen years ago. As she spoke to the assembled first years, her eyes roamed over us, but she did not give any sign that she knew me. She then led us into the Great Hall, lining us up in alphabetical order, and the Hogwarts Sorting Hat sang. Tears sprang into my eyes as I remembered my first sorting of eight years previous, and I wondered where the Hat would place me. I only hoped that the parchment scroll the Professor (I would learn her name was McGonagall) was holding did not say "Potter" on it, or my life would be over. Thankfully, it did not, although the Hat recognized me, whispering in my head, "_Hmmm… another Potter, eh. And older? My, my, how times have changed. Used to be the elder family member arrived at school first. Ah, well, let's see where we need you. I could put you in Hufflepuff… but with your blood, you have to be **GRYFFINDOR**_" It shouted the last word to the rafters, and I handed back the Hat, blushing to the roots of my flame-colored hair.

I sat at the Gryffindor table next to a pair of twin boys abouta year younger than I, with hair almost as red as my own in places. One of them joked, "Hey, miss, are you sure you aren't our long-lost sister, or at least our cousin?" The other simply winked at me as I applied myself to eating a Feast even greater than the yearly Holiday Bash at Songsmith. "I… ah… I'm quite sure. I don't believe that I have any family here," I said softly into my plate with my strong Texan twang, "and if I did, I wouldn't know who they were." The twins and other students near me blinked with surprise at my accent, but did not comment. "Well," said the second twin with a chuckle, "we're Fred and George Weasley, but don't try to tell us apart, even our family gets confused. We're the Beaters on the House Quidditch team. You seem older than our normal first years, so did you play on another team?"

I warmed up to the friendly twins, and spoke louder, "Yes, I did. I came from the Kansas Prairie Songsmith Acadame. I just finished my third year of magic lessons after five rigorous years of music lessons, and I was the Seeker for the Radcliffe College Team. I suppose they'll have to use Emile Jorgens as Seeker now, though he was never as fast as I. You say you're the Beaters? My best friends back home are twins as well, and the Beaters for Radcliffe to boot! Catlyn and Tryna Barns, plus me, the Three Musketeers; we got into so much trouble our first year, I was sure the three of us would be expelled, especially after that stunt with Park Pingui's Quidditch robes!" My laughter pealed like bells as I remembered the good times with Cat and Try.

Fred and George then begged me to tell them some of the stunts the three of us had pulled off, as "research for future annoyances to Filch" as one twin put it. So I told them how Try had somehow snuck into Prescott Pointe's dormitory and "borrowed" Park's Keeper robes, then smuggled them down to the Quidditch pitch under the dead of night to meet Cat, who had somehow conjured up some sugar cubes and royal icing, and they created a huge penguin wearing the robes. "It was the only stunt they every pulled that I wasn't in on," I mused with a smile, "but I got in trouble for it anyway."

By the end of the Feast, we were fast friends. Although we had to sit through that horrible Professor Umbridge's speech, we suffered through it, and then went to the Gryffindor dormitories. I had to endure a shower of questions from the fourth-years I roomed with (which included Ginny the younger sister of the twins), but it was actually much more pleasant that I had imagined. For once, I was the one being looked up to as an older sister, and I think I let a bit of it go to my head the first month or so.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Classes and Surprises**

The next morning, I reported to Madame Pomfrey, and she gave me the go-ahead to take a full course-load, but warned me to be careful. I assured her I would, and then arrived at my next appointment for the day; Professor Dumbledore's office, where I met with him, Magistra Whitehawk, a boy who looked to be about twelve, and a mournful-looking ghost girl who looked to be sixteen. We were all introduced, and it was explained to Benjamin and Myrtle that they would be attending Songsmith for the next year or so. Professor Dumbledore shot a look at the ghost as he said this, implying that she would definitely need more than a year to learn what she needed to know. "But Professor," she complained mournfully, "how am I supposed to haunt my toilet if you send me half-way around the world?" He smiled and said that Songsmith would provide her with a toilet to haunt if she wished.

Benjamin then piped up and said that he didn't want to leave England, even though he had received a letter informing him and his family of the permanent change of school during the summer. Professor Dumbledore and Magistra Whitehawk soothed him by telling him that he had a great opportunity, one afforded few young wizards or witches: to learn magic in a second school system. He finally agreed to go, and the three of them departed to pack trunks. (Well, Myrtle had no trunks to pack, but she left the office anyway. I suppose she was telling the other ghosts good-bye.)

I turned to go as well, but Professor Dumbledore held me back. He told me to stay close to my friends, and close to my brother, and in time my memory would return in full. I replied that I had already visited Madame Pomfrey, and she had cleared me to attend every class. "But I don't know what classes I am to take, sir," I said hopelessly, "I don't know how your school system works." He smiled, his eyes twinkling, "I knew that, and I took the liberty of arranging your schedule for you. I hope you don't mind, my dear." "Oh, no sir, not at all," I assured him, accepting the parchment he handed to me. "Off you go then."

I nodded and left, taking Jakkin with me. Fortunately for me, Jakkin had stayed in small size since the day I asked him to; although I'm sure he would have enjoyed being his full size and stretching his giant muscles. I promised him that I would find a way for him to do it, as soon as I met a few more students and a couple more teachers. I walked down the corridors, lost in thought, until Ginny found me and grabbed my arm, "Come on, Mel, we're going to be late for class!" She pulled me in the direction of the grounds, chattering on about nonsense. I mentally sent an apology to Jakkin, and almost stumbled upon hearing him answer me, "_Oh, that's alright, Mellie, you go have fun with your friend; I'll find a way to shapeshift myself._"

I'd never heard him speak before, and definitely not in a royal British accent, and I was dumbstruck all the way through my first class, Care of Magical Creatures. I really should have been paying attention, for this was one teacher I needed to make friends with, for Jakkin's sake. I woke out of my stupor just as the bell rang, and asked Ginny to wait for me while I asked Professor Grubbly-Plank a question.

I approached the Professor hesitantly. She saw me, and briskly strode the rest of the way between us, "Alright, girl, what's your problem? I know you're new here, but that's no justification for mooning right through a lesson." I quivered slightly, then held Jakkin out as my excuse, "Please, Ma'am, it's my cat. As you seen he's a winged jaguar cub, extremely rare according to Magistra Archon. I've had him since my fifth birthday, on my ninth he started size-changing, and today he SPOKE to me!" She looked me over, and then took Jakkin from my hands, "Well, missy, that's a tall tale and no mistake. But if you're telling the truth, we've got quite a mystery on our hands. You leave him with me a while, and I'll see what I can do for him." I thanked her profusely, and ran off to follow Ginny to our next class.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Fun and Family**

Months passed, and classes flew by. I made many friends, but I liked the Weasleys best. I finally learned how to play wizard's chess, but never won a game. I guess I just don't have the aptitude for it. My best subject was, of course, Quidditch, but as I couldn't be Seeker I tried out for Keeper. I didn't make it, though: the fourth Weasley at the school, the prefect Ron whom I by choice didn't get to know, received the honors. I rode my mother's old broom for tryouts, which Madame Hooch took one look at and almost fainted in ecstasy. Apparently I'd been riding a custom-made Silver Arrow all these years, and never knew it. Fortunately for Harry (and me!), the second inscription, the one that read _Lily Evans Potter_, was illegible at the time of Madame Hooch's examination, probably because I didn't have all if my memories back yet.

That boy Neville I saw at meals or in the common room, but he didn't speak to me. I thought it was a pity, because he needed someone (other than the teachers) to boost his confidence in himself, and I was hungry for news of my brother. If only he had warned me of things, I could have helped so much!

The first weekend in October was a visit to Hogsmeade, the wizarding village, and the twins convinced me to go down with them to "check out the joke shop." (Sometimes it's handy to have your great-grandfather as Headmaster: very easy to get permission for things.) But there was also some sort of meeting Harry was holding, and I told them I would accompany them to that too, although I'd be unnoticed.

I sidled into the Hog's Head quietly, wrapped in invisibility. I had found a beautiful cloak in my bottomless schoolbag, which turned me invisible, and this is what I was wearing when I crept into the bar. There I heard for the first time Harry's ordeal with Voldemort. I almost threw off my cloak and proclaimed myself then and there, but I restrained my enthusiasm and stayed hidden. I managed to sneak my name onto the list his friend Hermione was passing around, because if course I wanted to be in on the group.

Later that month, on my birthday, I burst into tears as I remembered Mother's face beaming when she told me I'd be having a little brother. Fortunately, I was able to pass them off to Ginny as tears of joy for finally turning eighteen. Fred and George smuggled food and butterbeer in from Hogsmeade and leftovers from the Halloween Feast from the kitchens so I could have a very fun birthday. Some of the Gryffindors had even pitched in to buy me birthday presents, and I received a giant package from Cat and Try that contained (what else?) a sugar-cube lion wearing red-and-gold Qudditch robes they'd ordered from a catalog.

Just as I was about to go up to the fourth-year girls' room, Professor McGonagall (who still didn't let on whether she recognized me or not) stepped through the portrait hole accompanied by Professor Grubbly-Plank, who was carrying my beloved pet. I fairly flew to her side and reclaimed Jakkin, whom I commenced to shower in kisses. She said she couldn't figure out any of his secrets, and he wasn't talking to her, so she was returning him to me. I thanked her profusely anyway, and went to bed replete.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven: Ministry Meddling**

I made myself unobtrusive to that horrid Professor Umbridge, especially after she was made Hogwarts High Inquisitor and created that evil Inquisitorial Squad, made up entirely of Slytherins who docked us Gryffindors points if we even looked sideways at them. I just kept out of the way of anyone wearing a Slytherin patch, even if they didn't have the extra Inquisitorial Squad insignia.

I couldn't avoid Potions, taught by Slytherin's Head Professor Snape, but I could and did make quite sure that he couldn't call me out for exceptionally good or dismally bad work. I didn't want him taking out his hatred of our father or Harry on me if he ever found out I shared their blood. My plan worked perfectly: in Umbridge and Snape's classes, I seemed to be invisible.

Meanwhile, my weekly visits to Madame Pomfrey were working wonders on my wisdom, as each time I remembered more things out of my past. I recalled when Harry was born, though I was not even three yet. I brought to mind the happy times we had had as a family, with "Uncles" Sirius, Remus, and Peter near at hand. I finally recollected the girl who was with me on the night of the purple flash: my nanny and a good friend of Mother's Agatha Agnes Bones McKinnon (her sister is Amelia Bones and her niece Susan). She gave her life to protect me, and I will be eternally grateful to her. (As the Memory Charm finally snapped at last sometime near the end of May, I remembered that Agatha Agnes had cast it, in a last-ditch effort to save my life before she fell atop me dead. Made more powerful by her dying desperation, it encompassed not only me, but the six Death Eaters as well; but since I was the closest, I received the brunt of it. There are not so powerful, but since they now have no reason to believe Harry has or has ever had a sister, I am eternally safe… unless Voldemort remembers I'm not dead.)

I also saw the faces of the people who killed her, though only one meant anything to me before New Year's. It was the same face as the head of the Inquisitorial Squad, Draco Malfoy. Obviously it wasn't him, but his father at a younger age, but it still chills me to this day. The rest of the faces I saw weeks later in an edition of the Daily Prophet, five of the ten Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban. Since then, I've always wondered why it took six Death Eaters to kill one young woman and (attempt to kill) one little girl, but I don't think I'll ever know. The ways of the Dark Arts are mysterious, and not for good witches and wizards to understand.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: More Surprises**

When Harry was banned from Quidditch for life along with the Weasley twins I tried out for Seeker, but my heart wasn't in it. I played very badly when I auditioned; so badly, in fact, that once the Snitch flew up my sleeve and hid there for five minutes before I noticed it. All in all, that was not one of my better performances. I was overjoyed when Ginny made the team, however, and somehow my father's backpack brought up a Nimbus 2009 as a congratulatory gift for her (which will not be on the market for another four years from this writing, but that's another story.)

(My father's backpack has conjured many things which I know were impossible for me to have place there, but I did not find out that it was special until Professor Flitwick examined it. Professor McGonagall had told me at my fourth birthday that it was a bag of _holding_, but Professor Flitwick informed me that it was also a bag of _conjuring_, very similar in concept to the Room of Requirement. He said that very few wizards or witches could create something that powerful, and to guard it well.)

One week in mid-November, Ginny and I walked down to our Care of Magical Creatures class, but it wasn't Professor Grubbly-Plank as I'd become accustomed to. Instead, there was this giant of a man waiting for us at the hut, whom (Ginny whispered to me) was Hagrid, a good friend of Harry's. I stared at him, perplexed, for he was covered in blood, bruises, and gashes from head to toe. He boomed a hello to us all and led us to a corral containing some unicorn foals, though I picked up a distinct lack of interest in them from him. Ginny noticed my querulous look and murmured that he preferred dangerous animals, which he called "interesting creatures," especially the fanged and venomous kind.

I chuckled quietly and whispered that he'd probably be half-way interested in Jakkin because of his fangs, but be turned away by the lack of poison. Jakkin, who was following me everywhere, curled up on the top of a fencepost and pretended to sleep, waiting to see what this new teacher made of him. Professor Hagrid watched him with interest all through the lesson, and then asked me about him afterwards. I told him our history, and he asked if he could study Jakkin a bit. I said yes, nudged Jakkin into wakefulness, told him what was going on, and flew off to my next class, urged on by the impatient Ginny.

I was very startled in the last week of November not to be celebrating Thanksgiving; but as it is not an English holiday, it wouldn't be observed here. Once again, the twins cheered me up by sneaking in a small feast for me, Ginny, and the rest of the fourth-year girls. I'd never had a brother before (my non-remembrance of Harry notwithstanding), and I came to love them as brothers, as I loved Ginny like a little sister. I felt very much at home with the Weasleys and the fourth-years, for I had always been the youngest: even Cat and Try were about four weeks older than I.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen: Lapses**

As the Christmas holidays approached, I was spending two or three sessions a week with Madame Pomfrey, because I was getting headaches as flashbacks appeared at the most inopportune times (like the one time in Herbology with the Bubotubers… very embarrassing and painful to pass out while holding a pod you've just punctured.) Each time, I would wake up with Madame Pomfrey bending over me, ready to stuff me full of chocolate (and remedies to the Bubotuber pus and such) yet again. It got so bad that at one point I spent a full two days unconscious in the Hospital Wing… not good with end-of-term exams looming, especially in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Obviously, this recurring illness did not endear me one whit to Professors Umbridge and Snape. Fortunately, I've always been a rather quick study at things, and I was able to catch up in everything, although it meant depending heavily upon Ginny to take double notes. I could tell it was getting to be a strain on her, but she said she would be fine. I never told her the real reason I was having fainting spells and seeing Madame Pomfrey every week, but I think she guessed a bit, having been around Harry for four years and having seen the now-defunct Professor Lockhart (whom I met briefly at St. Mungo's). One day she asked me, point-blank, after reading the particular chapter in the Slinkhard book, if my flashes were related to a crumbling Memory Charm, and if so, why wasn't I a permanent resident of St. Mungo's.

We were on our way to the Great Hall for lunch, and I stopped cold in the middle if the passageway. I gaped at her, then swiftly took her arm and pulled her into an empty classroom. I queried her if she had told anyone else her suspicions, and she negated my fears. I sighed in relief and told her my secret, all of it. She gasped upon hearing that I was Harry's sister, but swore that she'd never tell. I was so relieved to finally have someone in on it that wasn't an adult, I cried. Ginny patted my shoulder and said she'd help me all she could, though she didn't really know how to break a Memory charm from the outside without breaking the person's mind as well. I gulped for air and told her that it was enough that she knew my secret, and was willing to help me.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: Holiday Attacks**

After that day, Ginny accompanied me to all my sessions with Madame Pomfrey (which in the absence of classes increased to one or two a day), and I was glad of her support. I think it was only her presence there that made sure I didn't go entirely insane, for the flashbacks grew more draining on me both physically and emotionally. Once, Madame Pomfrey mildly suggested, after one particularly bad session, that perhaps I should move into the Hospital Wing until everything was organized in my mind, but I refused. I didn't want to give any fodder to the Slytherin/Junior Death Eater/Inquisitorial Squad rumor mill.

Ginny was my life-line to normality. If I showed signs of mentioning that I should be locked up in St. Mungo's, she would draw me into fourth-year life and show me how happy all of us were. Emily Braydon of Hufflepuff, especially, was helpful in keeping up the girly chatter, although I don't think she realized that she was keeping me sane. I owe both girls more than can ever be repaid in one lifetime.

On Christmas Eve, we had all gone to sleep jabbering about what we hoped to find at the foot of our beds the next morning. Deep in the night, I woke up to find Ginny being quietly taken from the room by Professor McGonagall. Both of them were crying, which I found ominous. The next morning, I found out why from Madame Pomfrey when I went to my session with her alone: Ginny's father had been attacked and was in St. Mungo's, critically ill.

I fainted with another flashback of Agatha Agnes falling on top of me in front of six Death Eaters. As I woke blearily, for a moment I thought Madame Pomfrey was Agatha Agnes, and I hugged her tight. "Aunt Aggie, you're back!" I cried, only to be embarrassed when I was fully conscious. "Quite all right, child," Madame Pomfrey said encouragingly, "The shock can do that at times." At her words, another flashback enfolded me, but did not make me pass out.

This was one of a happy Christmas Day, just after Harry had been born and my third birthday. Aunt Aggie was there, hovering over me and baby Harry like a mother hen, even worse than Mommy herself. Daddy and Mommy were so proud to have a son that Christmas. Uncles Peter, Remus, and Sirius were also there, beaming, especially Uncle Sirius, because he had been named Harry's godfather. Uncle Remus was mine, and I was sitting on his knee. Of course, I couldn't quite say "Remus" at three, so he was my "Unkie Remy." Tears ran down my cheeks as I relived that wonderful Christmas. Madame Pomfrey handed me a huge bar of Honeydukes' best and a bottle of butterbeer and nudged me out the door, saying, "We're done for the day, dear. You go have fun now."

Angelina Spritely met me in the hallway on the way back to the Common Room and said, "Come on, Mel, let's go have a snowball fight!" I grinned and agreed, wolfing down the chocolate and butterbeer on the way. I offered her some of the chocolate, as I was having trouble juggling both the large bar and the bottle, and she took it and broke off a hunk. We chattered like magpies as we went outside, sharing chocolate and butterbeer. Once there, we hurriedly finished our shack and went to join the fight. It was third and fourth years against fifth and second, no Houses, and so much fun that for a few hours I forgot about all of my troubles.

Nevertheless, the snowball fight had to end, and all too soon my memories of the night before and the morning came tumbling back. I hoped Ginny's father would recover soon and with no lasting injuries. I wished that she'd be able to come back to Hogwarts. I trusted that all would be well. I went back to Gryffindor Tower very subdued, and sat down to write a letter to Cat and Try. This occupied me until almost dinnertime, and took three rolls of parchment. But finally I was done, and I went up to the Owlery to see if there was a bird willing to fly to Songsmith.

I had trudged all the way up there for nothing, however. None of the owls wanted to fly on an eight thousand mile round-trip flight just to deliver a letter in the dead of winter. They all flew up to the rafters and refused to look at me or answer my hails. In desperation and almost in tears, I went down to Professor Hagrid's hut and asked for Jakkin back. He said that I could have him back, because he wasn't any help in classes.

I thanked him profusely and asked Jakkin if he would go home with a letter for me as I carried him back up to the castle. He replied, "_Of course I'll help you, Mellie. You and your friends have always been kind to me; the least I can do is to return the favor by delivering your letter_." I hugged him close and gently tied the scroll to his collar, then set him down on the snow in a courtyard. He jumped, did a triple somersault, and landed on the ground twice as tall as I am and bearing great feathery wings patterned like his hide. I hugged him again, and bade him a tearful farewell. He twitched an ear at me in reply and bounded into the sky. "Don't let yourself be seen, but hurry back!" I whispered, waving a handkerchief after him. I turned, walked into the castle, and headed for the Great Hall and the Christmas feast, musing on the happenings of the day.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen: Cards and Games**

The next morning, I got up early and went to the library as soon as it opened, foregoing breakfast. I had decided, belatedly, to send a Christmas card to the Longbottoms on behalf of Magistra Whitehawk. I spent most of the morning creating two, and they came out quite good, considering my lack of artistic talent (boy, does magic help out tons!). I signed the first, "From your beloved cousin Everly Whitehawk, courtesy of her student Melantha Cardigan Potter," for Frank and Alice in St. Mungo's, and the second, "From your loving niece Everly Whitehawk, courtesy of her student Melantha Cardigan Potter," sent to her Aunt Augusta. I just hoped Magistra (and Mrs. Longbottom) didn't think me presumptuous, sending cards in her name.

I spent another hour after lunch making a third card for Neville, as a big thank-you for not blowing my cover to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I'm always here," the card read, "if you need someone to talk to. Gratefully, your friend Mel." After that, I went up to the Owlery to see if the owls were more interested in delivering my mail. This time, probably since I wasn't asking them to go four thousand miles in a blizzard, three thousand miles of which was over water, I had many offers to take the missives to their addressees.

I chose two of the school's tawnies, tied the scrolls to their legs, and sent them off with a thank-you kiss to their beaks. The third card, the one for Neville, I snuck up to his dormitory room and slipped into his Herbology textbook. I'd heard Ginny saying that was his best subject, so I knew he'd go for his favorite textbook as soon as he got back from visiting his parents.

My deliveries made, I went to find Angelina and Emily. They were in the Great Hall playing wizard's chess, with (a bit surprisingly) Luna Lovegood watching them dreamily. Of course, she wasn't really paying attention; she was more interested in her current copy of The Quibbler, but I was a little taken aback that she was even there at all.

Watching the girls, I was swept into a memory of Daddy and Uncle Sirius playing chess from my favorite vantage point, Uncle Remus's knee. The next thing I remember, I was lying on the floor under a bench, with Angelina fanning my face and Emily holding my hand. Luna was standing over us, expounding her latest theory that I'd been attacked by wrackspurts. I apologized, for a large group had gathered, and I didn't want attention. I laughed it off as a simple fainting spell due to missing breakfast and having very little lunch. Luna and Emily accepted my explanation, but Angelina looked a little skeptical, because she knew I'd had them before.

I got up and suggested that we try a game that Cat and Try had sent me. I pulled from my pack a board that looked similar and yet different to the chessboard on the table. I explained that it was for four-way chess, very complicated. I'd never played it with a set of wizard's chess pieces, only Muggle ones, but it proved to be very interesting. I brought out two more sets of chess pieces in gold and silver (another gift from the bag of _conjuring_) and we set up the game.

Amazingly, Luna sat down and roundly trounced the three of us. I'd never seen such skill, not even from Pete Pingui, and he came back from the National Wizard's Chess Tournament and the National Chess Tournament (Muggle-based, was two- and four-player games) every year with first place trophies. I was swept off the board in about five moves, Emily in ten, and Angelina lasted around twenty.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen: Worn-Out Quills**

The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione came back just before classes began again. DA meetings were held more frequently than ever, and Neville worked startlingly hard. I'd never seen anyone in such a feverish frenzy to learn the Defense Arts, but I suppose that's because three weeks after the holidays ended, there was the mass break-out from Azkaban, including the married couple who'd tortured his parents into insanity.

The day term started again, the notice was posted that all who were or would be seventeen on or before August Thirty-First could sign up for Apparition classes. I signed up, never having had the opportunity back in Nebraska. It was fun, although there were quite a few Splinchings during the course of the class. The instructor, a colorless little man from the Ministry Apparition Committee named Wilkie Twycross, was amazed at my ability to pick it up so fast.

Grandfather Dumbledore was very amused by my quick study of Apparition. (Of course, I couldn't call him Grandfather when other people were around, but he did allow it when we had our monthly conferences with Madame Pomfrey on my progress.) He was very happy that I was slowly regaining all my memories, although he was a bit worried that I was still having fainting spells. Madame Pomfrey assured him at our monthly meetings that as soon as all of my Obliviated memories returned, the fainting would end.

I was (finally!) caught up in all my classes, but the professors kept pouring on class notes and homework. Soon enough, I was back to my place in the middle of all the classes, except for Care of Magical Creatures. Somehow, I shone in that class. I guess it stemmed from my years of caring for Jakkin, so I suppose I was just naturally good.

As the months passed, I kept having to order new quills from Flourish and Blotts, because I was taking so many notes and writing so many essays. I think it was in the way of one or two a week. But my troubles were noting compared to the fifth-years: they were getting ready for their O.W.L.s, and they (especially Harry, Ron, and Hermione) were using something like a quill a day (Hermione was more like three a day).

In March, we had the Apparition Test down in Hogsmeade, and I was one of about five who passed with flying colors. And, of course, soon after that was when Fred and George flew out on Umbridge. I missed them terribly, but I understood why they left. Even so, there went two of my closest friends at Hogwarts.

In April, Jakkin came back from Nebraska, laden with gifts from Cat, Try, and the gang at Songsmith. Magistra Archon, as an Apparition gift (news travels fast between wizarding headmasters) had had a score of Jakkin's feathers made into Self-Inking Quills in different colors for me, so I'd never run out again. Cat and Try had sent me a Broom Compass, and their parent sent me a set of dress robes in a beautiful orange, with creamy-white frills at the cuffs and collar. (With my hair of variegated flames, I looked like a sunset.) Surprisingly enough, I even received cards of congratulations from the Pingui twins, who had gone into teaching and Ministry work (Park was now Charms Magister at Songsmith, and Pete was working in the American Office of the Ministry of Magic, Muggle Relations Department).

May passed quite uneventfully, except for Ginny's fifteenth birthday. I presented her with ten of the Self-Inking Quills, Angelina gave her a box of assorted candies and chocolates, and Emily handed her a Broom Servicing Kit during lunchtime. All in all, it was a very successful birthday (and much happier than Ron's seventeenth, on which he got poisoned!).


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen: Finals and Farewells**

As June crept up on us, Harry and the rest of the fifth years had their O.W.L. tests, and the rest of us had our regular end-of-year exams. I was worried, for I had no plans for the summer vacation, and I did not know if I would be allowed to return home to Songsmith for the holidays. When Ginny told me that her mother had okayed me coming to visit for the first couple weeks of holidays, I became so ecstatic that I started jumping up and down, shrieking. Then my summer became complete, as during our last monthly conference with Madame Pomfrey, Grandfather Dumbledore held me back and told me that I'd be spending the summer with him. I again shrieked happily, jumped up, and hugged him tight.

But soon my shrieks of joy turned into tears of pain, for Harry and Company came back from the Ministry with the news that Uncle Sirius was dead. At that moment, I longed to comfort my brother with the knowledge of my existence and presence, but Ginny and Grandfather both told me that the shock of me on top of Sirius's death would shatter him. I had to bide my time, and at this writing he still does not know. (But I hope to tell him soon, because Grandfather is now dead, and he needs all the help he can get from a family member.)


End file.
